


Crush Me (And Keep Me For Eternity)

by lattemagic



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 18:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13347399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lattemagic/pseuds/lattemagic
Summary: 2B indulges in her biggest weakness.





	Crush Me (And Keep Me For Eternity)

**Author's Note:**

> Did I write erotica? I wrote erotica.   
> Its bad, but here it is regardless.

He shows too much. That is what she thinks. And though there has always been certain problems with the Type S models, this problem, in particular, was a completely 9S issue.

9S has always said and done things that 2B has trouble comprehending. He felt emotions with little to no inhibition, never scolding himself for showing that weakness.

Emotions. They were the agency of humans – glorious, and painfully extinct humanity, something an android can imitate with scary proficiency but never truly achieve. And, as such, 2B knows there is nothing special about her, and that doesn't necessarily bother her. Most of the time – why should it? She isn't supposed to care. She is not supposed to let emotions cloud her thought processors.

But she does feel something, sometimes. She feels it every time she looks at him. She does not know how to describe it. Whatever it is, it spreads throughout her, but that is as close as she can come to comprehending the way he makes her thoughts swim. Any other time she might be concerned about a chip being fried, or something similar that would throw her entire system out of whack.

But it isn't so simple. It doesn't feel like a malfunction. 9S's enthusiasm is infectious. For all of his chatter, which at first she found a little exasperating, sure – she did have – well, she didn't have the right words for it. He experienced emotions with little care of protocol. He had things like wonder, joy. And when the inevitable times came, those terrible moments when he knew too much and she was forced to run her blade through him - those moments he knew sorrow and betrayal, and maybe hate too.

Though she did like those ugly emotions marring his fine face she did know one thing. She wanted him in a way that was dangerous for her mission and sanity, but that didn't stop her from feeling that way. She found herself wanting him even more if possible. 2B wanted what she knew she could never have.

And…

And she was lost in her thoughts again. How long had she been running on automatic this time?

She casts an unassuming glance over towards 9S's direction. He looks up at her and smiles. She likes it when he smiles. She looks away, regardless, trying to regain focus on the road ahead of them.

"I don't think we have anything to worry about," he says, now that she's not deep in thought, springing off the tail end of their earlier conversation.

"You never do," she mutters.

They are coming into a tighter space, where the road gets narrow and the buildings are clustered together. They are old, falling apart. The paint is flaking and the cement is breaking – bare beams and wires are exposed, everywhere, and yet somehow – it feels safer, here, than it has in a long while. It feels more guarded as if the buildings themselves are not interested in prying eyes and will do anything to shield themselves and whatever manages to flutter underneath their protective, crumbling barriers.

"We should take a break," she says.

"All right," he doesn't even argue not that she was expecting him to. He was smaller, frailer than her, even if his stamina was impressive.

"We should set up…" she glances at the building nearest to them. It's taller than the others and probably the least stable. She looks back at him, and he is still staring at her. She can feel it, everything, surging up her throat like she's about to spew…something. It feels like it should be a liquid, but it comes out as words instead. The most selfish, dangerous set of words she's ever said. "9S?" He watches her intently, waiting for her to continue. "What if you...kiss me?"

She waits for his response. It feels like eons before he comes up with a reply.

"Kiss you?" He repeats dumbly as if he heard her wrong. She is about to say something to get her out of the corner she so nicely put herself in when he responds with an assured "I'd like that." There is no stutter in his reply and within an instant, he is stepping closer.

She is both relieved and terrified with his enthusiasm yet she will not squander this opportunity to feel... something. That elusive something.

She reaches out to touch his face, unsure of if that is what she should do but feels like it adequately communicates her intent to kiss him. She leans in, but her lips hover just in front of his, almost too nervous to press forward. They stay in that position for a few seconds before he reaches out, placing his hand on the back of her head. He pulls her forward, and their lips connect. There is a definite spark between them – more metaphorical than literal, but she could almost swear that she feels a crackle against her lips.

She doesn't pull away. She thinks that perhaps that is what is supposed to happen. But 9S takes hold of her upper arms, wrapping his fingers around them. She wants to surrender the lead, but she is almost afraid that he won't carry on farther than this if she doesn't make her intentions clear. She wants him to touch her, everywhere. She doesn't just want this to be…

She doesn't know what she wants it to be. Or what she doesn't want it to be. She just knows that she wants him to touch her. Her sensitive synthetic skin is going crazy with the sensation of his fingers alone.

He leans in to press his lips against her throat, and she almost panics. 2B snatches his hand, squeezing it and pulling it close, almost slamming it against her chest. He looks at her, somewhat startled, like a wild animal, and she holds his gaze as she pulls her hand down to her breast. He lets it stay there for a minute, giving an experimental squeezing, and then he starts kneading it with his fingers, leaning forward to kiss her on the throat again, this time his other hand snaking around to rest against the small of her back and draws her close.

She makes a sound she doesn't recognize as coming from her own throat, and she leans against him.

His movements are not more confident than her own, but more fluid at least. 2B finds herself with her back pressed against the side of the building, and she presses her hand against the wall. It is chalky, dusty. She grinds it underneath her fingers and it feels good to be pressed between it and 9S' frame. He trails his kisses down the front of her throat and her chest, his fingers working to unbutton the neck and move the cloth out of his way. Up until this point, he has been kissing underneath her jaw and just behind her ear, but she feels cold air hit her skin, her newly exposed throat. She feels so vulnerable, and her whole unit shudders.

He looks up at her, an almost nervous expression as if he can't tell whether or not she is sure she wants this. He moves like he has been daydreaming about this for much longer than she has (which is impossible because this 9S is still so new, so unmarred and innocence and…she can't follow that train of thought), but there is still hesitation. She just nods, letting him know that she is sure. She doesn't have words anymore. The high neck of her clothing is completely undone and she turns around for him, exposing her back. She wants to wrap her arms around herself, protective, but she knows that that will destroy the point, make it impossible for him to see her.

He does the back slowly. The cloth parts underneath his fingers and exposes her skin, bit by bit. The line of what has been made to look like a perfect spine. He presses his lips to that space as well, his lips trailing a line of kisses down her back.

He pulls the cloth down her shoulders, exposing the slope, and he kisses that too – the space where her neck and shoulder meet. He puts his hands on her waist and slides the cloth the rest of the way down It drops to her feet, around the ankles of her heeled boots. She feels entirely exposed and isn't sure how to process that. She almost does not want to turn around, and she doesn't think she will. If he's going to do this, if they are…then she might just face the building, let him take her from behind, not let him see everything… After all, though her…feelings for him may be strong and perhaps even love, theirs is not a love story. If anything this act is just another sin to her long book and -

And 9S words bring her out of her thoughts before they become too heavy and truly ruin the moment.

"I want to see you," he says. "Turn around?"

She hesitates, for a few moments. 2B straightens and turns around, facing him in nothing more than she was made. He looks almost in awe of her as if he has never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. She feels her skin flush, livening up her pale skin to a warm red.

A split second passes between them, no more than the heated spark that flickered between them before, and he reaches up, his fingers slipping underneath her short silver hair to touch the combat visor – black like a silk blindfold, but far more durable – that is wrapped around her eyes.

She shakes her head, reaching up to catch his hands, but she isn't fast enough. Or maybe she doesn't want to be fast enough. He pulls the visor away, and she squints in the sudden full of light. She casts her eyes down, her own naked body looking so strange to even her own eyes, and she looks back up at him, reaching out to take hold of his visor. He offers no resistance, and she pulls it away from his eyes. The two most beautiful blue orbs she has ever seen. Surely, as an android or not, she is allowed to enjoy the concept of beauty?

Suddenly she is filled with a desire. She wants to see him, now. Fair is fair.

She reaches out, touching the front of his vest. She feels like she isn't undressing him as smoothly as he did her. But she accomplishes it, all the same, pushing the vestment away from his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. His chest is smaller and thinner than hers, clearly male in design, but well-crafted. She starts in on his pants, tugging on them to pull them down his narrow, sharp hips.

She touches the inside of his thigh. She has been well aware, her entire existence, of the difference between what would be her genitals and what would be his. But seeing it, so exposed, seeing him so exposed – she isn't sure what to do. She isn't sure how to react. But his artificial blood is pumping, and all of it is going down between his legs. He springs to life in her hands, hardening against her palm, and while she doesn't know what to do, she puts her back against the building and places her free palm against the stone – using that gritty texture to ground herself while she starts to stroke him, wanting to touch as much of him as possible. Wanting as much as she can get out of this moment.

He presses himself closer. He is surprisingly warm – she doesn't know why she thought he wouldn't be. His white-silver hair falls so becomingly into his eyes and he reaches up to touch her face, trailing his fingers down over the curve of her cheek and slipping them underneath her chin. He tilts her chin down, and kisses her again, dragging his lips over hers, daring to let his tongue flicker – which is enough to do her in for an eternity.

She feels like she is melting, like her entire body is the ocean, rocking against him. He touches her small waist, pulling her closer to him so that as much of their skin is touching as possible. He presses his lips to her chest, dragging his mouth down the mound of her breasts, flickering his tongue over the most sensitive spots and pulling them into his mouth, sucking. She moans a long, low sound. Another full-body shiver, his pointed nose nuzzling at her collarbone as he slides his hand between her thighs. It just feels right, to touch her there, to stroke her. His fingers play at her entrance – the space that is so different from his, fingers slipping up and down the slit before he starts to push them in. The sensation is nothing she has ever felt before. Her mouth falls open but no sound comes out. She closes her eyes, biting her bottom lip as he pushes his fingers further in – taking care to be gentle as if she were a delicate flower and not a hardened combat unit. He works his fingers back and forth so that she can stretch to accommodate them. He pushes them as deep as the can go, twisting them around, wriggling them deep inside. She grinds down on his hand, suddenly everything is abandoned – she has no control over herself anymore, and it's starting to feel like maybe she never did.

And maybe she never will again.

He works his fingers in a slow thrust, rocking his palm against her most sensitive spot. She finds herself rocking against his hand, following his lead, her hands on his shoulders as she knows she wants more, she craves more but doesn't know how to ask, or what to ask for, either.

9S places his hands on her hips. 2B throws an arm around his neck, lifting her own hips encouragingly and wrapping her legs around his. He is close enough to her to pin her against the building, and there is nothing to separate them. She rocks against his hips, wanting more, not sure where it's going to come from. He reaches down, taking hold of the base of his shaft, pulling his cock up enough that the head is pressed up against her entrance. He looks her in the eye, holding her gaze as he pushes himself inside, and she moans, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as she savors it – feeling him sink in, going so deep that she isn't sure he will ever be able to completely pull out. She throws her head forward again, resting her hand on the back of his and pushing it down onto her shoulder. He allows for it, his hips rocking back and forth against hers. Not pulling back too much, not thrusting too hard. A steady, almost awkward rhythm and there is silence all around them, as she can hear nothing but the sound of his body and hers, and her own garbled noises that she knows aren't programmed.

He grinds against her, keeping his movements slow. He rocks his hips against hers a little faster, and she keeps his head pressed down into her shoulder. She can feel – something – building – getting tighter, hotter, her whole body being stretched like a rubber band about to snap. She cries out, her fingers moving up to wind into his hair, gripping it close to the scalp, gasping out whatever she thinks makes sense, but nothing does, not at this moment.

The tension swells and then snaps. And she feels relief slam into her. Her body goes limp, and she knows she would fall if he wasn't holding her so tightly. He keeps his body close to hers, hips rocking, face pressed into her shoulder. She feels him whimper against her skin, kiss her shoulder, the bend of her neck. The pressure must have snapped for him, too, because she feels his entire body shudder in a similar way. And he almost collapses. They nearly fall on top of each other, but manage to remain upright, and pressed up against the building.

He pulls his head back just enough to look at her, and there is that beautiful wonder on his face as if he sees her as perfect when she knows she is far from that.

Still, the sentiment - the emotion isn't lost.

And for a brief moment, everything was all right. For a brief moment 2B isn't worried about a call from the Commander, isn't concerned about her inevitable duty...

And 2B allows herself to smile wishing the moment would stand still, if only for a little longer.


End file.
